Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)
Chapter 137 - 132: Master of games (3)

Chapter 137: Chapter 132: Master of games (3)

Gabriel’s fingers, still curled in Damian’s hair, became tighter. His gaze lowered to Damian’s lips, then slowly lifted to his eyes, those golden eyes that never looked away, never wavered.

"Well," Gabriel murmured, his voice rough and low as a growl, "I’m the one that decides this."

Before Damian could react, Gabriel shifted his weight and moved, fast and fluid. He pushed Damian back, hands on his chest, and guided him until the Emperor was sitting on the edge of the chaise. Gabriel followed with ease, straddling his lap as if he had every right to be there, which he did.

Damian’s breath caught, and his hands instinctively fell on Gabriel’s hips, fingers flexing with a tension that threatened to snap. He looked up, his chest rising and falling, caught between excitement and awe.

"Now this is something I can submit to." He spoke as his hands reached for Gabriel’s waistband, his fingers tightening against the material.

Gabriel grabbed his wrists before he could go any further, holding them firmly between their chests. "Tch," he clicked his tongue, smirking down at him. "You don’t get to touch just because you say sweet things, Your Majesty."

Damian grinned, the kind of grin that could cut through steel. He traced his teeth with his tongue, a deliberate, slow motion that made Gabriel’s pulse quicken. "Is that so?" He raised his chin to meet Gabriel’s gaze, his eyelids partially covering his glowing gold eyes. He was enticed. Very much so.

Gabriel leaned down, their foreheads almost touching, their lips brushing with each word. "It is. And right now, I’m not yours to command." He kissed the corner of Damian’s mouth softly, teasingly. "You like control, don’t you?" Another kiss, just below the jaw. "But so do I."

He released Damian’s wrists slowly, dragging them down to rest on the chaise. "Hands there. Unless you want this to end now."

Damian chuckled, low and dark. "You’re cruel."

"I’m in control," Gabriel corrected, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering. He shifted his weight slightly, his thighs tightening around Damian’s hips, grinding the hardness under him. Gabriel’s hands slid up Damian’s chest, fingers splayed, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, the heat of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. He could feel how his body was responding to the arousal; he could feel his omega body getting wet, a tension coiling in his lower abdomen.

He forgot about the soreness and faint pain he had all day; he wanted to feel his mate’s pheromones and have him enter his body. He lowered his head, lightly kissing the exposed collarbone with his teeth before biting his ear.

Damian’s breath hitched again, the sound low and primal as Gabriel’s teeth grazed his skin. His hands curled against the chaise, obeying Gabriel’s command, but his entire body vibrated with the desire to move, grab, and pull him closer.

Gabriel lingered at his ear, breath hot against flushed skin. "You always act like you’re in charge," he whispered, his voice a mix of challenge and desire. "But look at you now. Sitting there, waiting for me to show you what comes next."

Damian groaned softly, tilting his head back, exposing more of his neck. The glow in his eyes flickered, pupils blown wide; the beast beneath his skin roused and barely leashed.

Gabriel’s hand slid down Damian’s chest again, slower this time, more deliberate. His fingers brushed the waistband Damian had reached for earlier, hovering and teasing but never fully giving in. He could feel the Emperor trembling now, not from fear but restraint. Desire.

His own body ached with need, slick already dampening the inside of his thighs, his scent mixing with Damian’s like smoke and storm. A low sound escaped him as he leaned in again, this time pressing his lips to the base of Damian’s throat, where his pulse beat furiously.

Gabriel’s hands reached the waistband of Damian’s pants, his fingers grazing the fabric before curling around the material. His eyes never left Damian’s face as he began to unfasten the belt, then the button, his movements slow, deliberate, almost teasing. The sound of fabric sliding against skin was soft but deafening in the charged silence between them. Damian’s lips parted slightly, a small, almost imperceptible exhale escaping as Gabriel continued his work, his hands sliding lower.

Gabriel tugged the waistband down just enough to expose skin—warm, flushed, and taut with anticipation. He didn’t rush. No, he wanted to watch Damian losing his mind.

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows over Damian’s skin, his chest rising with every breath he tried to steady. But Gabriel saw the truth. He was shaking beneath him. He was quite the sight.

Gabriel leaned in again, his lips grazing the sharp edge of Damian’s hipbone, breath hot against sensitive skin. "So quiet now," he murmured, his voice dark silk. "Where did that imperial arrogance go?"

Damian’s fingers dug into the chaise’s fabric, and his jaw clenched, as if holding back a sound that would reveal how close he was to breaking.

"I see," Gabriel said softly, lips brushing down with every word. "You’re saving your breath for begging."

Damian’s head turned, and his eyes flashed gold like a lit match. "Don’t get cocky."

Gabriel chuckled, low and wicked, sliding back up until their faces aligned again. "Too late." He kissed him deeply, consumingly, his body arching into Damian’s, the slick heat pressing firmly against the now-loosened fabric between them.

Damian broke the kiss with a growl, his restraint unraveling by the second. "If you’re going to play, play."

Gabriel tilted his head. "Oh, I’m playing," he whispered, brushing his lips down Damian’s neck again, his breath catching as he felt the Emperor’s pulse race beneath his mouth. "And I always win."

He pushed Damian back gently, guiding him down against the chaise with one hand on his chest. Damian let him, but the heat in his eyes promised: ’This won’t end with you still on top.’

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